


A Sketchy Sort of Love Affair

by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, debriel minibang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 19:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_DragonMuse/pseuds/Vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Human AU.  The one night stand that wasn't unfolded into something unexpected. </p><p>Written for the Debriel Minibang. </p><p>Art by chef_geekier: http://chef-geekier.livejournal.com/58304.html)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sketchy Sort of Love Affair

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to bladeandroses for the beta!

The initial assessment wasn’t good. His head throbbed, his mouth was dry and the sheets were far too scratchy to be his own. Reaching out, he found warmth, but no other breathing flesh. With a groan, he rolled over and then hissed as the sun lanced across his face.

“Here,” a gruff voice said.

“Ugh.” Gabriel slotted open one eye. There was a devastatingly handsome man wearing hospital greens standing before him and holding out a glass of water. “Shit. Did I choke on my own vomit or something?”

“Not that I remember. Just had a few laughs. Came back here and we both passed out before anything interesting happened. Worst one-night-stand ever.”

“Ouch.” Gabriel took the water and like magic, two chalky aspirins appeared and he swallowed them dutifully. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“You realize I have no idea what your name is.”

“It’s Dean.” Dean had a good smile, sort of wicked on one side and little-boyish on the other. “I cheated and looked in your wallet, Gabriel.”

“Hope you helped yourself to my cash. You probably deserved it after letting me crash on your bed.”

“You don’t have any cash. Just a library card and a chewed up credit card.”

“That’s enough to get me by.” He levered himself up and out of bed. “Where are we?”

“My apartment, off Dupont.”

“Dupont,” Gabriel blinked. “Really?”

“Hey man, you’re so intent on going home with someone, maybe you should ask the address first if you’re gonna be a snob about it.” The smile vanished, leaving the room a little colder with its absence. 

“No, it’s not that. I live on Dupont. Just no one else that goes to Novak’s lives anywhere near here.” He found his pants and shirt in a pile next to the bed. Convenient. He pulled them back on.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my idea. My brother-”

“It was his birthday.” The memory came back, cracked and wavy like a movie trailer. “You were feeding him shots and he got pathetic...I helped you get him home.”

“Bingo.” Dean smiled again. “And now I’ve got to get to work, but you can help yourself to some coffee or whatever if you want. Sam’s in the kitchen making sad noises. You two can be pathetically hungover together.”

“Match made in heaven.” Gabriel looked him over. “So...where do you work?”

“St. Mary’s.” Dean grabbed a messenger bag off the floor. It might once been black leather, but so many band patches had been stitched on, it was sort of hard to tell. He gave Gabriel a wink and then he was gone.

Gabriel located the bathroom first, blessedly close by, and took a long piss, then splashed cold water on his face until he felt halfway human. The smell of coffee and the need to locate his shoes drew him out into the kitchen. The apartment was surprisingly spacious, a converted warehouse space with a lot of windows and not much in the way of walls, outside the two bedrooms and bathroom. The hulk of a man that Gabriel vaguely remembered getting steadily more plastered the night before was hunched over a chipped kitchen table. 

“Hi.” Gabriel said as brightly as he could manage. “Dean said there was coffee?”

“Nnnff,” said Sam and dropped his head into his arms. “Counter. Pour me a cup too. Mugs are over the sink.”

Their mugs proved to be an eclectic collection of souvenirs from every highway attraction in creation. Gabriel chose a ‘World’s Largest Chair’ mug for Sam and took ‘Spectacular Carhenge’ for himself. There was milk in the fridge and he poured it liberally into both cups.

“Sugar?”

“In the ceramic pig.”

It oinked at Gabriel when he opened it.

“I’m not sure if that’s charming or awful.”

“Ugh. It’s Dean’s. So awful.” Sam raised his head a little. “No sugar for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Gabriel plonked down the mug and took his own to the window. The city, such as it was, spread out before him. It was a stunning view. In another neighborhood this place would sell for a stomach-dropping amount of money. Here, it was apparently a broken-down bachelor pad. 

“I’m going to watch cartoons until I pass out,” Sam informed him. “You can use the shower if you want. I have no idea when Dean is coming back.”

“I don’t think I have an invitation to stay.”

“He didn’t kick you out. That’s the invitation.”

Gabriel should go back to his hole in the wall and do some laundry. Or call his sister. Or clean out his fridge. Or write his next blog entry for the immature masses. Or pay his bills from his meager bank account. 

“What cartoons?”

They were still on the couch when Dean got back. Zim was making another valiant go at taking over the world and Gabriel was silently cheering him on.

“Jesus, Sam.” Dean dropped his keys into a dish by the door. “You’ve gotten sad in your old age.”

“Fuck you, it’s my birthday.” Sam draped himself over the arm of the couch, looking upside down at his brother. “If you wanted me to succeed in life, you wouldn’t make me do Jaegerbombs.”

“Whatever.” Dean ruffled his hair. “Damn hippie. Oh, hey Gabe. Decide to stick around?”

“I was seduced by nineties cartoons and sugared cereal.”

“You ate all the Lucky Charms, didn’t you?” Dean glared at Sam, who only looked back wide-eyed and innocent as a puppy. “Goddamnit.”

“I’m good for a box. Or I can spring for dinner. Take out since I’m not planning on leaving this couch,” Gabriel declared. “Possibly ever. Maybe I’ll annex it in the name of my homeland.”

“You stay longer than three days, you pay rent. Them’s the rules, punk,” Dean declared. “I’m gonna go shower. Chinese menu is in the drawer. Sam knows what I order.”

Apparently what Dean ordered was a massive amount of food. It seemed ludicrous that someone with a body like that actually packed away that much fried garbage. Until Gabriel realized it was mostly for Sam. Despite having only ordered soup and a few egg rolls, Sam wound up devouring the better part of three entrees and two containers of fried rice. Gabriel watched the steady progress with wide eyes.

“I know, right?” Dean snorted. “He runs marathons or I’d need a forklift to get him up the stairs.”

“Jealous,” Sam waved his fork around. “It’s sad really.”

“Uh huh,” Dean stole an eggroll. “When does school start back up again?”

“Monday. I’ve got some hours at the office on Friday though.” 

“You’re a law student,” Gabriel recalled.

“I’m in my last year. I do some paralegal stuff for a local firm to bring in my part of the rent. I’ve got a job there if I can pass the bar.” Sam stabbed idly at the lo mein. “I’ll be in deep study mode all summer.”

“He’ll be fine,” Dean said around a mouthful of eggroll. It was sort of disgusting. Yet he was still very pretty. Some people had all the luck. “His head is that big so his gigantic brain can fit.”

“Ass.” Sam threw a balled up napkin at him.

It was nice, Gabriel realized, watching them bicker. Familiar without being threatening. One of them stuck in a Die Hard movie and if he were honest, Gabriel would admit he had dozed off on the couch on purpose, stealing a second night.

“Here,” Dean handed him a cup of coffee the next morning. He was dressed for work again, hair neatly gelled back. “I’m off tomorrow, but Sam’s got work. I was going to go a baseball game. Want to come?”

“Uh, sure.”

“Awesome,” Dean favored him with another smile. “Come by around eleven.”

Confronted with clothes that had slid beyond acceptable grossness, Gabriel gave in to the inevitable and went back to his apartment. The mountain of laundry confronted him and he would up in the basement, sitting on a dryer in his sweatpants and a holey t-shirt. He spun his phone around a few times, before giving in and calling Anna.

“Oh, look who isn’t dead yet,” she said.

“Sorry. Meant to call.”

“Of course you did. Let me guess, things got crazy?”

“Something like that. Everything ok?”

“Fine.” She let out a noisy breath. “No, I don’t need money. Yes, I went to the doctor and got antibiotics. No, I haven’t met anyone. That cover it?”

“Just about.” He pinched his nose. “Have you called-”

“No. They know I’m alive. More than they know about you, so stop hounding me about it.”

“I’m not-”

“I’ve got to go. Talk to you next week.”

She clicked off the line and he rubbed at the incipient headache gathering at his temples. He did have a shift that night, so he stuffed himself into tight jeans and the regulation black t-shirt, before heading out to Novak’s. The lights were already tumbling around the dance floor though the place was practically empty. It was an upscale club, the kind of place very pretty people liked to come and pose for each other. 

Technically, Gabriel shouldn’t have gotten a job there. He was too downmarket and not exactly conventionally good looking. He looked like the kind of guy that would be better off standing behind a traditional wooden bar with a rag in one hand and a cigar in the other. Yet, he’d been there for years, behind the plexiglass and neon blue lights of the bar, serving drinks and surliness like it was going out of style.

“You’re late.” Balthazar started passing him bottles as soon as he walked in the door, restocking the depleted well. “You’re lucky I’m too hungover to make a note.”

“Sweetheart, if you ever sober up enough to make notes, you wouldn’t have a staff.”

“True.” Balthazar winked at him. “Saw you disappear with that rough trade the other night. How was that duo?”

“Not rough trade.” He corrected. “Law student and...I dunno, some kind of hospital employee.”

“Really? They looked like they just fell off the truck from the backwoods. All that plaid. Good muscle tone though. Threesome?”

“Nosome.” He flicked an orange seed at him. “Just helped Dean get his brother home safe and sound.”

“Boring,” Balthazar declared, flicking the seed right back. It hit Gabriel between the eyes. “Be a lamb and cut up some limes, will you?”

Despite not looking the part, Gabriel was damn good at his job. He could whip up any inane cocktail with as many juggled bottles and stacked glasses as an easily impressed drunken crowd could want. Schmoozing with his customers came in a smooth pattern. So rote was the patter that he barely paid attention anymore. He flirted on autopilot, pouring rainbow-colored shots and planning his grocery list at the same time. Tips came in small, but healthy, doses. Enough to keep him in pudding pops, brand-name cereal and boxed wine as long as he wanted it if not enough to upgrade his lifestyle on the whole.

It wasn’t the life he had pictured when he left home to pick up a gallon of milk and never came back. He’d assumed that it would be all booze, loose women and cash. It even had been for awhile. Gabriel had a glib tongue and an easy manner. At twenty he’d even had doe eyes and a sly smile that got him where he needed to go.

Ten years on his own had mellowed him though, and he was content with the life he had made for himself. Doubtless if his family knew there would be a lot of talk about wasted potential, but Gabriel had never wanted a high-stress life. He wanted a paycheck, a room to call his own and the freedom to make his own choices.

Choices like turning up for a baseball game in cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt that made Dean’s lips quirk a little at both ends.

“You’re only allowed to comment if you buy me a hot dog first,” Gabriel demanded.

“Those hula girls know how to shake it,” Dean said mildly. “Drive or walk?”

“Sky looks clear to me. I’m fine with walking.”

They set out down the block, quiet together for the first few minutes. Dean had a cop’s eye, casing each person that passed them by and scanning the area continuously. His posture was relaxed though.

“Never did tell me what you did for a living,” Gabriel said casually.

“Yeah, well,” Dean snorted, “I don’t tend to be the spill-my-soul-to-the-bartender type.”

“Just the pour-them-into-your-bed-at-the-end-of-the-night type?”

“Once in awhile.” The smirk curled warm in Gabriel’s belly. “I’m an ER nurse.”

“Huh. That makes sense.”

“Why?” Dean’s shoulders tightened, waiting for some kind of blow. 

“You seem like the type of guy that keeps his head in a crisis.”

“Oh. Yeah, well. Had a little too much experience with that.” The tension leached out again as though it had never been.

“You’ve got to work long hours though.”

“Take whatever I can get. Putting a kid through college is hell on the wallet. Used to think I’d just fix cars or something, but Sammy started talking about becoming a lawyer when he was fifteen and I figured that greasemonkey wages weren’t going to cut it.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes.” A smiling woman behind a bodega counter waved at Dean as they walked by. He waved back, but didn’t slow down. “Cars are easier than people. And they fix easier too. But I like it okay most of the time. Saving people is sort of the family business anyway. Sam’s gonna go into pro bono criminal defense stuff. ”

“Regular bunch of martyrs, huh?”

“Nope. Martyrs have to die.” Dean winked at him. “Long as I get a say in it, the Winchesters are gonna be around a damn long time.”

The game was actually sort of interesting. Gabriel had never been a huge fan of sports, but the home team put up a good fight and the announcer was an enthusiastic, husky voiced woman. There was Dean. The way he threw himself into it, shouting and cheering like a loon. He was still ridiculously good looking, flushed a little in the noonday sun and smiling to beat the band. 

“Guess you like the team a little,” Gabriel joked when a loud ‘Fuck’ erupted from Dean, startling the surrounding fans after a bad at-bat.

“Sort of,” Dean grimaced, retreating back into his seat. “My Dad was a big baseball guy. Never had time to take us or anything, but we listened to a lot of games in the car. Guess the interest stuck around. Never did get around to choosing a team though, so I just root for whoever is sucking more since they need more help. What about you?”

“I’m not much of a sports guy.” He shrugged. “Dad never said anything about it one way or another. Some of my older brothers liked it though.”

“Some? How many do you have?”

“Ugh. Too many.” Gabriel snorted. “My mom was the most...prolific...of my Dad’s wives.”

“He remarry a lot?” Dean asked, eyes still on the field.

“Nope. He’s a polygamist. Part of a runaway branch of the Mormon church.”

“Seriously?” He had all of Dean’s attention now.

Gabriel hadn’t talked about his family with anyone in years. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it now. Only that Dean was looking at him with evident surprise, but not judgment or disgust or that weird overfocus of the morbidly curious.

“Yeah, seriously. My Mom was the first wife and there were two others. There’s fifteen of us kids all told. Or, well, there were when I left. Probably more now. More wives maybe.” He tried to shrug it away. Nothing to see here. “It’s been a decade, so who knows?”

“Damn. That must’ve sucked.” Dean grimaced. “Sam did that once. Ran off on us. For like three years.”

“He came back though.” Gabriel couldn’t imagine going back. He’d run for so far for so long that it all seemed a little dream-like anyway.

“Because his girl...well.” Dean shook his head. “We don’t have good luck. Sam had this nice girlfriend. An apartment. Working on his degree...Happy, you know? And then bam! Housefire and it’s all gone. Girl, apartment...everything. I had to come get him out of a fucking psych ward. Wound up driving him around the country, this endless road trip, trying to get him back to himself.”

“Seems happy enough now,” Gabriel offered, though, now that he thought about it, he could sense a somberness under Sam’s bright smile.

“Took years,” Dean wrinkled up his nose. “Goddamn, why are we even talking about this?”

“Because baseball is a game with built-in boredom periods?”

“Got to be something less depressing to talk about. Like terrorism or something. What do you do when you’re not bartending?”

“Knit.”

“Oh, come on!” Dean laughed.

“I might!” Gabriel protested. “Nothing wrong with it.”

“Seriously, man.”

“Watch a lot of television mostly. Read. Write. I get sort of sick of people after being at the bar all night. Usually just look for quiet stuff to do. There’s a few guys I know, old friends. I meet up with them. You’d probably like it. We drink a lot of micro-brewed beer.”

“What do you write?” Dean flicked his fingers at the hot dog guy, already reaching into his wallet.

“I’ve got a blog,” he admitted. “Sort of an advice and how-to for getting revenge.”

“That sounds...nasty.” 

“It can be,” Gabriel shrugged. “I was in a shitty place when I started writing it, but it’s mostly become about pranks at this point.”

“Sam and I used to have prank wars!” Dean lit up again. Gabriel decided that they were going to kiss before this day was over. Those lips were too good to pass up. “Man. We’d torture each other. It was awesome. I actually Nair’d him bald once. He still hasn’t forgiven me. Still sniffs the bottle of shampoo before he uses it.”

The game ended with a decisive homerun for the visiting team, much to Dean’s distress. He grumbled while they collected themselves and started the long shuffle out into the street. The day was young still, just waxing into late afternoon.

“Want to grab dinner?” Gabriel asked. “I’ve got a few more hours before work to kill.”

“Yeah, you got a preference?” Dean perked up. “Because there’s this killer barbeque place that won’t do takeout. I love it, but I never get to eat there. They use this sort of burnt brown sugar in their sauce and it’s killer.”

“Barbeque is fine with me,” Gabriel laughed. “Man, you’re a hidden foodie, aren’t you?”

“Like one of those wine tasters or whatever? No way. I just like good food.”

The barbeque was, in fact, killer. Dean ate with an appreciative gusto that almost managed to leave Gabriel’s usually prodigious appetite in the dust. Napkins piled up around them and about a gallon of beer disappeared more or less equally into them.

“Awesome,” Dean pronounced when the carnage was over. “Man, I miss this place. It’s always closed when I get off of work and Sam bitches about it ‘cause they don’t have enough greenery. No idea how he powers that body of his with lettuce.“

“He’s probably eating a stack of hamburgers on the side and just wants to piss you off.”

“Probably. Dick.” Dean burped. “Ugh. Sorry.”

“Not going to put me off my appetite or anything.”

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” The waitress asked, looking harried.

“Pie,” Dean declared before Gabriel could declare his fullness. “Apple if you’ve got it.”

Watching Dean eat pie, reminded Gabriel of Michael at prayer. The thought was disturbing, but couldn’t be shaken as Dean made soft appreciative noises and ate each bite with reverence.

“You’re staring,” Dean commented as he licked a sticky line of sugar off the back of his hand, pink and sharp and perfect. 

“If I wasn’t too full to get up, I’d fuck you through the table right now,” Gabriel said. He didn’t see a reason to beat around the bush. His bluntness was rewarded by a slight widening around Dean’s eyes, but not much else. Apparently, this hadn’t been a very obsessive way to make friends on Dean’s part as Gabriel had half-suspected.

“Would you?” Dean said mildly, reaching for his coffee. “What makes you think I’d let you?”

“You let me sleep in your house, took me on a date, fed me your favorite meal. If you weren’t aiming on taking me to bed then you’ve wasted a hell of a lot of time and energy.”

“Maybe I just like strays.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think so.”

Dean finished off his coffee in two long gulps and threw some cash on the table.

“Sam won’t be home for another two hours.”

“That so?” Gabriel got out of the booth slowly, stretching upwards to let his shirt ride over his stomach. He knew the value of his looks, not high, but he also knew that it wasn’t about his face or body. It was what he did with them.

“Yeah. Good thing too.” Dean tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, pulling them down just enough to show off the muscle hiding underneath. Equal footing in this game too and Gabriel grinned in delight. “Walls at our place are pretty thin.”

They practically raced the few blocks back to Dean’s apartment. They didn’t touch, didn’t even shoot each other a second glance as they pounded down the sidewalk. It got Gabriel’s blood up, shook off the lethargy induced by too much cornbread. By the time Dean had gotten the door closed behind them, Gabriel felt good enough to crowd him up against it.

“Dude. Where are you hiding all that strength?” Dean raised his eyebrows.

“I work out.” He grinned, too toothy and pleased. “I can do better than that.”

With a move that looked easier than it was, Gabriel hooked his arms under Dean’s thighs and hefted him upward using the door to take most of Dean’s weight. With the height difference it meant Dean leaning down to kiss him, a little awkward and a little too much tongue. It still sent fire banking down Gabriel’s spine.

“You gonna carry me to bed?” Dean growled.

“Not if I want to wake up without pain tomorrow,” Gabriel grinned, nipping at Dean’s lower lip. “Gonna have to walk there on your own power.”

Gabriel didn’t make it easy either. He had a talent for zippers and buttons, undoing them with each clinging step until Dean hit the bed naked and flushed. He had a nice cock, long and thick. Gabriel dropped to his knees.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Dean encouraged as Gabriel lapped at the pink crown. “Please.”

“Politeness,” Gabriel licked again. “Nice.”

Dean made deep pained groans every time Gabriel sank down. They pinged over Gabriel’s skin, waking up things that had slept for too long. He held onto Dean’s hips, the velvet covered points of bone filling his palms. When Dean came at last, fingers fisting into Gabriel’s hair, Gabriel felt more himself than he had in a long time.

“You are awesome.” Melted over the sheets in a jumble of sweating limbs and deliciously flushed skin, Dean looked like an ancient painting of debauchery. 

“Am I?” Gabriel crawled over him, soaking in the heat that radiated off of Dean’s body.

“Mhm.” With quick fingers, Dean plucked at Gabriel’s undershirt. “How are you still dressed? Come on.”

Gabriel wiggled out of his jeans and shucked off his shirt, amply rewarded with caresses and inquisitive lips. He lay back and threw his arms over his head in open invitation.

“You look like a sacrificial virgin or a debauched one,” Dean chuckled, one hand on Gabriel’s thigh and the other wrapped gently around his erection.

“I’m neither,” Gabriel grinned. “I’m a pagan god. Worship me.”

“Uh huh,” Dean laughed, stroking idly. “You still want to fuck me, your holiness?”

“Very much.”

Watching Dean ride him was straight out of the best kind of pornography. Thigh muscles flexed, lips reddened and green eyes went dark with lust. Gabriel barely had to move, just thrust and watch and try to resist the siren’s call of coming. He held out for a long time, losing track of the end goal in the rolling waves of sensation.

“Gonna be so damn sore,” Dean bitched even as his erection renewed, slapping up against his belly. “What are you waiting for?”

“For it to stop being the best thing I’ve felt in a long time,” Gabriel muttered, too honest in the haze.

Afterward, he couldn’t say how long they stayed locked together. Hours, or maybe just twenty minutes. Everything slowed and narrowed down to just the two of them. When he finally gave in to orgasm it was reluctantly, still smoothing hands over Dean’s arms, learning all their curves.

“You should stay,” Dean suggested, crashing down to the mattress and reality once more. “You know where everything is anyway.”

“Should I?” Gabriel asked the open air.

“Where else would you go?”

And Gabriel could’ve said home, but the apartment wasn’t home. Home was a thousand miles and years behind in the rearview mirror. Dean and Sam had a home here, warm and jumbled and buried under tangles of complicated emotion. It was too tempting to resist burrowing in their familiar, but uncomplicated comfort. Gabriel, at his heart, was lousy at turning down the sweet, the fatty, the easy. 

“Nowhere.” He tugged the blankets up and over them, though they probably should shower first. It wasn’t even that late, but Dean worked odd hours and didn’t protest. One arm was flung over Gabriel’s waist and lips kissed blindly along the curve of his shoulder. 

He felt the brush of those lips again in the morning, glancing off the side of his forehead. He opened his eyes blurrily, taking in the terrible hospital green clothes and black leather messenger bag.

“Gotta go. You working tonight?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel teetered on the brink between the darkness and the blinding light of consciousness.

“I’ll swing by the bar.” Another kiss, so light that Gabriel could read Dean’s embarrassment at the tenderness of it with his eyes still half-closed. “Catch you later.”

The clang of keys faded into the distance, a ‘Later, Sammy!’ and the door slammed shut. Gabriel curled tighter into the blankets. Maybe he should’ve brought a change of clothes. Walk of shame two days in one week was a little much. He faded out again for a bit, then came to when the bed shifted unexpectedly.

“Back so soon? Or did I sleep the day away?”

“It’s eight thirty,” Sam told him, shocking Gabriel the last few inches awake. “I’m headed out to work soon.”

“Right.” Gabriel sat up. “I should go.”

“Probably.” Sam was sitting on the end of the bed as if there were nothing peculiar about the situation. He was holding two mugs of coffee, extending one out to Gabriel. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He sipped it cautiously and found it the way he liked it.

“This is how Dean does things,” Sam said as if they were picking up a conversation recently left off.

“Does what?”

“Chooses people, I guess. He barely talks to anyone. I didn’t know he could make friends at all until we settled down here. Family only was the rule. Then he started doing this thing. Just a handful of times. Maybe you’re the fourth? I don’t know. He finds someone, he watches them for a bit and then that’s it. They’re in the family. Whether they like it or not.” Sam’s thumb rubbed worried circles over the ceramic mug. “If they let him down, he’ll just forgive and forgive. Once you’re in, it’s like...he can’t let go.”

“Who are the others?” Jealousy flared in his chest, squashed down as abruptly as it rose.

“There’s Benny. Ex-junkie with a rap sheet a mile long.” The grimace that lingered at the edges of Sam’s lips told Gabriel exactly what he thought of that. “Dean met him when he was in a tough spot, I guess. They helped each other. Now, he comes around once a month and they go out drinking and I wait by the phone in case someone needs to be bailed out of prison. Hasn’t happened yet, but I keep waiting.”

“Charming.”

“Right? But there’s Cas too. He’s okay. He was the first one. Dean starts working at the hospital and the next day, comes home with this trauma surgeon. Apparently Dean managed to save this guy’s patient, keep him stable before surgery and then Cas performs a surgery so miraculous that Dean introduced him to me as ‘this motherfucking angel of the goddamn Lord.’ Now he drops by all the time. Weird guy. Nice though.”

“And Dean just picks up men like that?”

“No,” Sam laughed. “No. He hasn’t picked up anyone in...god. A long time. I didn’t think he’d actually sleep with you. No offense.”

“Not sure how I can’t take at least a little there.”

“It’s just Dean. He’s building this family out of scraps, only way he knows how. There’s a girl too. Charlie. You’ll see her first, probably. She lives in the building, first floor. Dean spends a lot of time with her when I’m too busy to do dinner or whatever.”

“Charlie. Benny. Cas.” Gabriel repeated. “Why are you telling me this? Because he’s adopted me too?”

“Because I may be the little brother, but I have to watch out for him the same way he watches out for me. He’s trusting you. So, you know. Don’t fuck it up. And if you do? Do me a favor and just hit the road, okay? I don’t have the time to talk him through another bender.”

“You don’t think much of him.”

“No?” Setting the coffee down, Sam pushed off the bed. “He’s the most important person in my life, Gabriel. Not just my brother. My father. My mother. Dean got smarter than me somewhere along the way. Figured out having friends, having family made it all easier. I can’t get there. Not anymore. So I watch out for him and I try to be friendly to the people he brings home.

“I’m hollow.” The mug made a soft thud as it hit the night stand. “Dean isn’t. I’d like to keep it that way. So you be good to him and we’ll be good, you and me. Okay?”

“Okay, Sam,” he said gently, the same tone he used on drunks. “Okay.”

The encounter rattled around in his mind as he went about the rest of his day. He thought about it while he ate lunch, while he typed out a blog post for the starving pranking masses, while he composed an e-mail to Anna as innocuous and careful as he could make it. 

“You look like someone did your head in.” Balthazar poured them both a finger of whiskey before the rush started.

“Someone did.” He shot the drink down and grimaced against the burn.

“You could tell me.”

“I could, but I won’t.”

The hours ticked by, marked with martinis and cosmopolitans. It was nearly midnight before Gabriel glanced up and found Dean huddled into a bar stool, fatigue settled in under his eyes.

“Didn’t have to come by if you were that wiped out.” He swept a wet rag between Dean’s elbows.

“Told you I would. Anyway, I’m too wired to sleep. You know how it is.”

“I do.” He remembered Dean’s preferences and built him a strong Jack and coke. “On me.”

“Thanks,” Dean lifted the glass in salute. “Don’t suppose you’d let me crash with you tonight, would you?”

“Why would you want to?”

“I can think of a few fringe benefits. Anyway, Sam’s home and he’s got the study-brow-of-doom brewing. I’d rather be elsewhere.”

“Yeah?” Gabriel said with a mildness he didn’t feel. “Okay then.”

Dean should have taken up a lot of space in the tiny squeeze of Gabriel’s apartment. Instead, he looked right at home, almost small against the mound of pillows Gabriel kept on the bed. Folded up in his exhaustion.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Gabriel said even as he cupped Dean’s face and kissed him.

“Might fall asleep if we tried,” Dean admitted, eyes sinking closed under Gabriel’s attentions. “Can we just...lie here for a bit? Maybe put something on?”

“Sure.”

Gabriel flickered through the channels, settling on reruns of an old stand-up comedy show. He expected Dean to fall right asleep; instead Dean inched closer, his laughter reverberating through Gabriel’s chest. On instinct, Gabriel hooked an arm around him and drew him in tighter. The tense line of Dean’s shoulders slowly broke down into something like relaxation.

“Something happen?” Gabriel finally asked when the laugh track overwhelmed the comedian. 

“Little kid died. Wasn’t wearing a seatbelt. Nothing we could’ve done,” Dean shrugged, a shimming maneuver in Gabriel’s hold. “Still gets to me though. I try not to let it but --”

“I’m not sure I’d want to know the person that doesn’t let that get to them.”

“Cas can shrug it off and he’s not a bad person. Just -- good at compartmentalizing. He’s a friend. A surgeon.”

“Sam mentioned him.”

“Did he?” Dean snorted. “He likes Cas. Always has. Maybe more than me. They’re too much alike though, always rubbing each other the wrong way. Starting arguments I can’t follow. Drives me crazy.”

“He the jealous type, this guy?”

“Never asked,” Dean yawned then snorted when the penny dropped. “Oh. No. It’s not like that. He’s a friend. A good one. But no. Never in a hundred years.”

“Why not?”

“You’d know if you met him. There’s no room for anything in his life, but work and the greater good. He’s also about five degrees off sane. Fun in a friend, fucking scary in a lover.”

“And you think I’m sane?”

“Sure. Or the right kind of insane. Either works.”

“What about Benny? Or Charlie?”

“Man, Sam really was talking.” Dean turned over, head coming to rest in Gabriel’s lap. “Benny needed a sponsor. I never really went through the program, but I know what it is to get to wanting something all the time that’ll fuck you up. We figured it out, mostly. Charlie is just...awesome. You guys’ll get on like a house on fire. But girls these days...eh. Just not for me.”

“These days?”

“Sometimes you feel like nuts, sometimes you don’t,” Dean cracked himself up, snickering until Gabriel had to join in.

“That was awful.”

“Whatever. I’m hilarious.”

It was a luxury to wake up to the same face two mornings in a row. Gabriel stared at Dean’s closed eyes, the long sooty line of lashes. Turned on his stomach, one hand under the pillow, Dean looked vulnerable and deadly all at once. Gabriel thought of Sam’s hands around the fragile ceramic of the coffee cup, issuing his warnings and thought he understood them better now.

“Think it’s your turn to make coffee.” Dean said without opening his eyes.

“I can do better than that.”

They ate huevos rancheros in bed, Dean making the same pleased noises that Gabriel had coaxed from him with a lengthy morning blow job, before donning his apron.

“Not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”

“Both.” Dean groaned again. “Jesus, I’d marry this if I could.”

“Great. Now I’m jealous of my own food. This is my life.”

“Oh, I’d marry you too,” Dean said offhandedly. “In a really sketchy ceremony. Drive through in Vegas maybe.”

“That sounds like the beginning of a long and happy life together. Not at all doomed to divorce when the hangover clears up.” Gabriel reached forward, wiped a spot of sour cream off the edge of Dean’s lips with his tongue. “I could be the ex-Mrs.Winchester. Has a nice ring to it.”

“I’m picturing you in a short white lace dress now. It’s half-hot, half-disturbing.” Dean waggled his eyebrows. “Got a skirt lying around?”

“Anyone putting on lace in this room, it’s you, pretty boy.”

Neither of them put on clothing of any kind that morning. Dean reluctantly got into the shower at noon, complaining about a late shift interrupting his sex life. Gabriel climbed in after him and shampooed Dean’s hair into a mohawk.

“Come around when you get off tonight,” Dean bit into Gabriel’s collarbone. “Fall asleep in my bed if you want. I’ll be in late.”

“Sam-”

“Is a big boy. He likes you anyway.”

“Not so sure about that.” 

“He does. He’s just...weird about it.” Dean nipped him again. “Come over.”

“Ow! Fine. If you’re going to get violent about it.”

It all came too easily after that. Gabriel kept looking over his shoulder, waiting for something to go wrong. He saw Dean nearly every day. Even if he resolved to give him breathing space, Dean would turn up at the bar or send a text or leave a salacious comment on the blog. They did things together like laundry and grocery shopping (Dean was an expert at the former, a disaster at the latter) just as frequently as actual dates. They breathed each other in at every turn. It should have been stifling, but Gabriel had always thrived under attention.

“You sound happy,” Anna accused over the phone.

“Is that a crime now?”

“Are you on drugs?”

“Are you?”

“Nice. Really nice.” She blew out a long stream of air.

“I met someone,” Gabriel offered in apology.

“Yeah? Is he cute?”

“Hold on.” He texted her the picture he’d taken. It wasn’t very good, a grainy side shot of Dean laughing.

“Holy shit,” Anna gasped. “Where did you find him?”

“He found me,” Gabriel said, the truth of it only sinking in as he told her. “Just sort of...chose me, I guess.”

“That sounds creepy.”

“It isn’t.” Even though it sort of was if he thought about it too long.

Gabriel had assumed that Sam might be the long-anticipated roadblock, but the little morning- after speech never recurred. As far as he could tell, Sam was content to have Gabriel around at all hours, cooking meals in their kitchen and serving them free drinks at the bar. He joked around and asked Gabriel questions, never seemed anything less than perfectly friendly.

“Oh, that.” Charlie, who had met Gabriel by bursting into Dean’s room at a delicate moment, really was everything Dean had advertised. Even meeting her bucknaked and balls deep, Gabriel liked her immediately. She hadn’t blushed or apologized, just looked them over, wrinkled her nose and said, ‘Call me when you’re done.’

“So Sam does that to everyone?” Gabriel followed up, crunched in next to her at a fast food table while Sam and Dean ordered for them all.

“No. Sort of? It’s not normal, I get that. He’s just....Sam.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Dean says he used to be different, but I don’t know about that. Since I met him, he’s always had this part of himself held back. Like if he gets close to anyone, dire consequences will fall from above.”

“He said he was hollow.”

“Did he?” Charlie picked idly at a napkin. “That’s new. But I wouldn’t be surprised. They’ve been through some shit. Then again, hasn’t everyone?”

“Truer words,” Gabriel propped his chin on his hand, watching Dean poke Sam in the side and Sam protesting with a whine and then both of them slapping hands at each other like they were still children without a care in the world. “You’re closer to Dean then?”

“Everyone is closer to Dean.” She brushed her hair back behind her ear. “But Sam’s cool in his own way. I’d want him at my back if I were in fight or being sued.”

Gabriel met Benny more traditionally, with solemn handshakes over coffee while Dean kept them both waiting outside the hospital.

“One last patient,” Benny chewed on a toothpick. “Kid never quits.”

“You know him long?”

“Long enough to know him.” The newsboy hat shielded Benny’s eyes, but Gabriel could read the fondness. 

“I’ve heard he adopts people.”

“Something like that,” Benny laughed, a deep rolling sort of chuckle that Gabriel took to immediately. “He likes to look out for folks and maybe find someone that’ll look after him for a little in return. Heard he found you behind a bar.”

“He did. Thought I was doing him a favor helping him get Sam home. Now I’m wondering who led who back there.”

“Hmm. Probably not worth thinking too much about.” The toothpick moved to the other side. “When you meet someone that changes your life for the better, you just open up to it and don’t ask too many questions.”

“Sounds like a good way to get your heart broken.”

“What’s the point of having one if it doesn’t get busted a few times?” Benny grinned. “God gave us life, so live it, friend.”

“You two talking about me?” Dean emerged, bag slung over his shoulder and his hair a mess as he ran fingers through it.

“Tellin’ all your secrets, kid,” Benny knocked Dean on the arm. “You done primping? Can we go eat now?”

“You’re only grumpy ‘cause you’re hungry,” Dean rolled his eyes and leaned in to take a kiss from Gabriel. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Gabriel looked into Dean’s eyes, saw nothing there that he hadn’t seen before. Yet it was all new all over again. “Long day?”

“This is nothing. Not even a double.”

“We should have a drink to celebrate,” Benny decided and shepherded them to the kind of dark smoky bar that made Gabriel think of speakeasies.

They did get pretty rowdy, but Sam’s long dreaded bail call didn’t have to be made. Benny tripped onto the couch at the Winchester apartment, snoring before his face smashed into the cushions. Dean, twined round Gabriel like a cat sniffing out a fish, only hampered them a little in getting to bed.

In the morning, Sam looked at the lot of them with a faint veneer of disgust.

“Before you get mad,” Gabriel held up a hand, “I have a counter argument.”

“There isn’t even an argu-”

“Blueberry pancakes, bacon and sausage.”

“And that doesn’t make any-”

“Your plate. Ten minutes. The defense rests.”

“But-”

“Food, Sam. I will make you tasty food.”

“...the prosecution rests.”

Dean and Benny made hurt noises as the sun and greasy smells invaded their hungover bubbles. That seemed to increase Sam’s appetite and Gabriel had to give the kid credit for his sheer bloody-mindedness. 

The knock startled all of them.

“Fuck,” Dean groaned. “I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Sam ran a bite of pancake through a lake of syrup.

“Cas. He wanted me to go for a run with him this morning and I said yes.” He buried his face in a couch cushion. “Oh God, I’m going to die.”

The knock came again. One precise rap.

“I’ll get it,” Gabriel offered when no one else made a move. 

He had imagined ‘Cas’ in a variety of ways judging by different descriptions. He’d expected the stiff, formal man with a perpetual frown and a perfect part to his dark hair on the other side of the door. What he hadn’t pictured was the suckerpunch of recognition.

“A surgeon,” He said emptily. “Father must be so proud.”

“He has no idea. As I assume he doesn’t know that you’re a bartender.” Castiel stared at him. “What are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Dean had emerged from the couch, peering curiously over Gabriel’s shoulder. “This is my boyfriend, Cas. I told you about him.”

“He only called you Cas,” Gabriel explained lamely. “I thought it was short for Carson or something.”

“And there are many Gabes in the world,” Castiel tilted his head. “You look much the same.”

“You grew up.”

“I’m confused,” Dean said softly. “Explain?”

“I told you, Dad was a polygamist. I guess Castiel never did the same?”

“It was not anyone else’s concern.” Castiel ran a hand through his hair, disheveled the neat part in an instant. Now, he looked just like the boy Gabriel had once watched out for. The one that tried to go fishing in the creek out back or climb higher on the oak tree in the backyard. Quiet, thoughtful, adventurous Castiel, who could never get far enough away.

“Wait.” Dean clutched at Gabriel’s shoulder. “So you guys are-”

“I’m the fifth son of the first wife. Sort of a privileged status. Castiel is the fourth son of the third wife. Significantly less privileged. Must’ve flown the coop long after I did. After Anna.”

“How did you know that Anna left?” Castiel said sharply. “Do you know where she is?”

“I might, but I’m hardly going to tell you. How do I know you’re not still all tied up with them?”

“Because I was cast out.” The bitterness could have eaten right through the wood floor. “When I was in my residency, I began to make friends with outsiders.”

“With me.” Dean made a choked sound. “Fuck. No wonder your head was all screwed up. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want you to stop,” Castiel said as if that was perfectly clear. “You were the first person that ever chose me. Who I got to choose. Who I will continue to choose.”

Gabriel stepped out of the way of their moment, watching them stare soulfully at each other. He looked back to find Benny rolling his eyes. When he caught Sam’s eyes, an expression of wistfulness tripped over Sam’s face and then disappeared.

“So, family reunion!” Dean said with forced cheer. “Let’s forget running and have a day in. You two can really catch up.”

Gabriel was about to refuse, but the negative died on his lips as Castiel stepped forward.

“I’d like that,” he said, gravel and waiting hurt in his voice.

“So would I,” Gabriel replied and found truth buried under the words. 

And still, even with that discordant note, nothing went wrong. Not as summer eased into fall, not as the holidays cropped up like medieval torture devices. Gabriel waited for the awkward conversation to come up, but Dean only glanced at the calendar and said, “Gotta work Thanksgiving and Christmas. We do a big New Year’s thing though. Can you get off?”

“Sure.”

On Thanksgiving, Gabriel drank with Balthazar as usual and on Christmas, Castiel showed up at his apartment with a Boston Market chicken.

“I would like to go to church,” Castiel told him, holding up the food like a bribe. “But I don’t wish to go alone.”

“I haven’t gone in years.”

“Your admission doesn’t expire,” Castiel grabbed Gabriel’s scarf and threw it around his neck. 

It was awkward, sitting on a stiff pew in a church that their father wouldn’t have approved of. The stained glass had a certain allure, though, and the songs were nice. Castiel sang along just under his breath, but didn’t say a word when Gabriel’s lips stayed sealed shut. 

“Thank you,” Castiel said afterward, pulling him into a stiff hug.

“Yeah. Well. You’re welcome.” Castiel’s coat rustled under his fingers. “Let’s go eat that chicken. I’m starving.”

New Year’s Eve was, as Dean put it, ‘a big thing’. As big as the Winchesters could make it with their limited circle. Charlie set up her computer and DJ’d with a bouncing grin. Benny and Dean mixed drinks while Sam and Castiel crouched over a book, debating some fine point of medical ethics that went right over Gabriel’s head. After some discussion, Gabriel had been put in charge of food, which consisted mostly of reheatable appetizers bought from the freezer section. He sat, diligently watching over the oven while working his way steadily through the series of increasingly strong margaritas belching forth from the Winchesters’ ancient blender.

“Hey,” Dean draped himself over Gabriel’s back after the spinach puffs emerged unscathed. “I got you a present.”

“You don’t give presents on New Year’s,” Gabriel chided.

“No?” Dean slid fingers into Gabriel’s hair, running them along his scalp. “I do.”

“Should’ve told me. I would’ve gotten you something shiny.”

“S’okay. You can make it up to me later.” He shoved Gabriel out of his chair. “It’s in the bedroom.”

“This the kind of present that should wait until after the guests go home?”

“Nope. Definitely a now thing.”

“Uh huh.” Gabriel went through, curiosity piqued when Dean didn’t follow him. He cracked open the bedroom door reluctantly, bracing himself for something horrific.

She stood at the window, healthy and whole. Her hair had gotten longer, the red of it darker.

“Anna,” he breathed out, relieved and pained all at once.

“Gabriel.” She turned slowly, letting him take in her mark-less arms and steady hands. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” he choked out and pulled her into a hard hug. “How did he find you?”

“I found him. It wasn’t hard. You told me his name and everything. I wanted to...check, I suppose. To make sure you really were all right. He convinced me to come, but it didn’t take much talk.”

“You look good,” he said, though his eyes were closed, holding back the hot sting of tears.

“Do I?” Her smile creased his cheek. “So do you.”

“Are you happy?”

“What’s happy?” She laughed, pulling away. “But right now, in this moment, yes, I am. You?”

“Fucking ecstatic. Castiel is here. When did you last see him?”

“Six, seven years ago. When he was still all ‘sir, yes sir’. Guess that’s changed.”

“I don’t remember him that way.” Gabriel shrugged it away. He and Anna would probably never agree on anything, but it didn’t matter. They’d gotten away. They were happy in this moment. Healthy.

Castiel greeted Anna with the same affection and worry he had shown Gabriel, touching her elbow whisper-soft a few times, as if she might disappear as she sat beside him. Charlie took an instant interest in her appearance, taking Gabriel’s spot as soon as he got up to check on the latest batch of mini hotdogs.

“Good present?” Dean asked, looking altogether too pleased with himself.

“Yes.” Gabriel reached up, hooked an arm around Dean’s neck and dragged him down for a thorough kiss. “Just what I wanted. Just what you wanted too.”

“No idea what you mean.” 

“All Dean Winchester wants for Christmas is to pack his family in close and hunker down through the winter.”

“Doesn’t sound like something I’d say.”

“No. Just sounds like something you’d do. I did get a Christmas gift for you, actually. Then thought the better of it. Now I’m not so sure.”

“Might as well try giving it to me and see what I think.” Dean had liquor on his breath, but he was remarkably steady when Gabriel stepped back to let him stand on his own.

“Might do.”

He didn’t as their small crowd counted down, celebrating the new year with a pop of cheap champagne and a startlingly thorough kiss between Charlie and Anna that left Anna red-faced and laughing.

He didn’t as people left or fell asleep where they sat. Didn’t after he and Dean rang in the new year with enough noise to wake the inebriated. 

He didn’t over the huge breakfast he made the next morning, feeding the still-gathered and extremely hungover masses.

Instead, he waited until mid-afternoon, when the sunlight came in just so, picking out the gold notes of Dean’s hair. Until they were stretched out on the couch, floating in and out of a carbohydrate daze, Sam snoring without delicacy in the oft-patched armchair. Anna had gone over to Gabriel’s apartment to use his quieter bed; they would meet up later in the day with Castiel and attempt some family bonding. The awkward dance of first-, second- and third-wife children, crossing the boundaries to reunite over their father’s genetics and their separate rebellions.

He waited for that right moment, that exact deepening of Dean’s breath into a waking doze. 

“Here.” He reached into his pocket and pressed the envelope to Dean’s hand, before he dropped off. “Take it or leave it. Nothing’ll change.”

“Should I be worried?” With one finger, Dean opened the flap and slid out the contents. He studied the tickets with a half-smile. “Little fast for it.”

“Been like a bullet train since the night we met. Why stop now?”

“There’s four in here.”

“Well, witnesses. Figured we’d take our dorky brothers. I’m picturing Elvis.”

“Alien,” Dean corrected. “Definitely an alien. Won’t be legal though. Hasn’t reached Nevada yet.”

“Fine by me. We can wait a year, do it legal somewhere else if we want. Slower-paced for your pleasure.”

“Ass.”

“Exactly.”

“Not exactly.” Dean set the tickets gently on the coffee table. “You sure?”

“Sure as I am about anything.”

“Would you live here?”

“If you wanted.”

“I want.” Dean finally looked at him, grave and calm. “Sam has to be okay with it, though.”

“Oh God,” Sam groaned, apparently not as asleep as Gabriel had thought. “Just seize the goddamn day, Dean. We can always kick him back out on the street if he leaves his wet towels on the floor.”

“Great. Two annoyed spouses for the price of one. Except I don’t even get to bang the second one,” Gabriel buried his face in Dean’s neck.

“Not too late to back out now.”

“Yes, it is.” Gabriel hid a kiss there, just at juncture of the hard line of Dean’s jaw and the soft skin of his neck.


End file.
